


Crutchie's Adventures With the Five Love Languages!

by EducationalAdmiral



Series: Something New Everyday [5]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: 5 Times, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gay, Gen, Love, Love Languages, M/M, Secret Relationship, This is just feel good content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-22 16:37:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17063237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EducationalAdmiral/pseuds/EducationalAdmiral
Summary: “Ya mean the world to me,” Jack mumbled into Crutchie’s skin. “Ya know that, right?”“Yeah, Jack. I know.”///Or, Crutchie spends some time in love and being loved in return.





	Crutchie's Adventures With the Five Love Languages!

**Author's Note:**

> I found this half finished in my notes the other day! I started back in June and finished it yesterday so if the style conflicts that is why! Anyway, no warnings for this one! Enjoy!

**Gifts.**

It was an above average fall day. The streets were dirty but not too hot; a cool breeze ran through a tousled Crutchie’s hair where it peaked out from under his hat. It was a good day. He had woken in a good mood, rested well on the rooftop with a sleeping Jack still by his side. He hadn’t expected anything special from the day, just a nice headline and calm weather. What he got surprised him.

He wandered for a while for a selling spot. His leg wasn’t hurting, and he decided to take advantage of it. Somehow, he ended up near a park a couple miles from the lodge. He sat down on a bench, taking in the weather and resting his body for just a moment before he started selling, setting his papers on the ground next to him. He noticed that, while his bum leg didn’t hurt, his foot did. He glanced down at his shoes; they were a size or two too small, and the soles were worn, holes appearing in the material. He dismissed it, noting that he’d have to save up for a new pair or see about trading for used ones.

After some ten minutes, he stood, pulling a paper from his stack and calling the headline into the air, catching the attention of some nearby women and pulling them from their gossip for just a moment, the papers giving them more to talk about. He watched them walk off, smiling at them pleasantly. He continued to sell papers till about half his stack was gone. Then, he settled back on the bench for a well-deserved break.

He glanced around the park, looking at the passersby. His eyes caught on someone in the distance; a woman clad in a pink skirt and fancy looking blouse headed his direction.

“Katherine?” He called out, moving to stand and meet her halfway. She was a lot faster than him and caught him at about two thirds.

“Crutchie! I’ve been looking for you all morning!” She exclaimed, smiling widely.

“Oh? What for?”

“Can’t a girl just want to see her friend?” She pouted falsely for a moment, then dropped it, returning back to her smile. “I heard your birthday was coming up soon, I wanted to give you something.”

“My birthday ain’t for a month, Kath,” Crutchie smiled at her lopsidedly.

“I got excited! You protest a lot, I’m trying to be nice,” She pouted again, thrusting a wrapped box towards him. He took it, eyeballing her awkwardly. She looked at him expectantly.

“Are you going to open it or are we going to stand here all day?” She smiled, joking, crossing her arms. “A girl’s got places to be, Crutchie.”

“Ya chased me around all mornin’. A girl with places to be today woulda just caught me tomorrow,” He smiled back at her. “Can we sit?”

She nodded, following him to the bench. He leaned his crutch against the seat on his side opposite Katherine. He looked over the package in his hands, taking in one of his fingers and catching an uneven edge in the paper. He opened it slowly; painfully slowly.

“Come on, you’re killing me,” She groaned. Crutchie laughed and pulled the paper off, crumpling it in a ball to be discarded later. He was greeted with a plain brown box with a lid which he pulled off. Inside the box was a pair of leather work boots, shiny and new in a way he had never seen shoes before. He felt his jaw go slack, running his hands over the black laces.

“Try them on!” Katherine nudged his side. He nodded, propping his foot up on the edge of the bench and untying his ratty shoe. He slipped it off and dropped it, pulling on the new one. It fit nicely- thought somewhat strangely. He pulled the laces tight, looping them and then repeating the process on his other foot. He stood up, taking a step back so Katherine could see him in full.

“How do they fit?” She asked, looking down to his feet. “I had Jack help me a little- he measured your foot for me while you were asleep-”

Crutchie pulled a face to which she replied, “The ends justify the means,” her comment accented with an eye roll.

“They’s perfect, Katherine. Thank you.”

She smiled, standing and throwing out her arms. Crutchie hugged her.

“No problem,” She said, kissing his cheek. “Anything for my boys.”

 

**Quality Time.**

Sometimes, when the stress of being the leader of Brooklyn became too much, Spot called Crutchie over the bridge for an ‘emergency discussion.’ This usually meant Spot wanted to talk but also he didn’t at all, that he wanted to sit in silence but not be alone. It was times like these that he did not invite Race over. He was looking for company, not… company. Crutchie understood. It was the same as him wanting to be with Davey over Jack sometimes when he had a nightmare.

It was a particularly bad day in late fall. Queens has been giving Brooklyn nothing but trouble, and one of their strongest men and the best seller had just aged out, then promptly been arrested for loitering, of all things. As soon as the news reached him, he took the trip to Manhattan himself. Spot said hello to Race and Jack briefly, not disclosing any details about his visit except that he wanted to speak to Crutchie. Crutchie went with him back over the bridge, and they made their way to Spot’s private ‘apartment,’ an unoccupied space that no one had a clue as to why he had access to it.

Spot ran to a nearby cart and picked up two green apples. He carved them into slices with a knife in silence, dropping them into a bowl and then setting it on his bed aggressively. Crutchie had seated himself on the couch and had sat in silence until Spot climbed up on the bed and sat next to him. Spot reached for one of the apple slices and bit into it, eliciting a soft crunch in the otherwise quiet room.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Spot shook his head no and then stilled for a moment, seeming actually to consider the question then.

“It’s just… exhausting, sometimes.”

Crutchie nodded and then reached for Spot’s hand. Spot took it and then scooted over a little closer to Crutchie, dropping his head back against the wall. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep, his head drooping to the side and landing on Crutchie’s shoulder. Crutchie squeezed his hand and moved the bowl of apple slices with his other hand, grabbing one and biting into it.

Spot woke back up about an hour later, a blush rushing over his face once he realized he fell asleep. He apologized, but Crutchie smiled and shrugged.

“It’s all good,” he said. Spot smiled back as much as Spot ever smiled. He brought out a deck of cards, and they played a couple of games. He noticed eventually that the sun was starting to get low.

“You should probably be gettin’ back. It’s gettin’ late,” Spot said, beginning to gather his cards.

“I can handle myself, you know that,” Crutchie replied.

“I know, I’m just gettin’ tired. I don’t have the energy to deal with a concerned Jack Kelly,” Spot replied, yawning as if on cue.

“Understandable,” Crutchie laughed softly, gathering up his cards and handing them to Spot. “You’se gonna walk with me?”

“If I’m allowed,” Spot smiled.

 

**Words of Affirmation.**

 

Crutchie rarely sold with Davey and Les, but when he did, he always had a good time. Les was a bundle of joy most of the time- almost to a point where it was infectious. He was always smiling, tooting his own horn with every paper sold. He’d often whisper to himself, “good job,” in an echo of Davey’s praise. The three of them made a good trio; they day usually flew by with little trouble, and they laughed throughout all of it.

Still, selling papers was hard work, especially on cold days, when people were in a rush to get back inside. Because of his bum leg, cold days were worse for Crutchie than most. He felt stiff on cold days- uncomfortably so, and some days were worse than others. Still, on most days he was able to push through the pain with only minor difficulty. He had thought this day would be one of those days.

He sat on the curb, out of breath, his teeth clench as jets of pain ran through the nerves in his lousy leg unforgivingly. He had tried, he really had, but the pain had become too much all at once about halfway through the day, and he had begun to collapse. Davey had helped him to the ground, where he sat, panting for breath, rolling his leg awkwardly in a desperate attempt to appease the pain. On the bright side, they had sold a large portion of their papers already, but he could not imagine himself being able to push through the rest of the day.

Les lowered himself to the ground next to Crutchie and grabbed one of his hands, gripping it tightly. Davey crotched down and watched Crutchie’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Crutchie mumbled, his grip on Les’ hand tightening. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it’d get that bad today.”

“It’s okay,” Les said, smiling. “You did good. You did good, Crutchie!”

Davey nodded softly at that, smiling as well and looking over his brother.

Crutchie smiled, beginning to breathe more steadily as the harsh rush of pain began to dissipate. He shook his leg softly, testing his control over it, which seemed to have returned enough for him to make the journey home.\

“Thank ya, both,” he said softly.

“It’s no problem, Crutchie,” Les said quietly, standing and offering a hand to help Crutchie do that same. “We love you!”

 

**Acts of Service.**

 

When Davey first started offering to carry Crutchie’s paper bag, Crutchie had been offended by it, as he was most of the time people offered to do things for him. He was strong, despite the assumptions commonly made against him. He knew that, and he was always hurt when his friends seemed to forget.

Davey continually offered to carry Crutchie’s bag, regardless. He offered to carry his meals when they ate at Jacobi’s and wanted to help him take off his dirty shoes as he entered the lodge. Davey always wanted to help. It annoyed the hell out of Crutchie, who was just as capable as everyone else, for a long time.

That is until Crutchie noticed Davey doing the same thing for everyone else. When Les wasn’t situated on Davey’s shoulders, Race was on his back. Davey was always carrying bags and papers- anything heavy but not too heavy for him to lift. He was still helping people peel off wet clothing, tucking the younger boys into bed. Suddenly, Crutchie felt guilty for ever having been angry because he realized that the servitude wasn’t about pity- it was about Davey showing he cared. Still, his moderately hostile responses to Davey’s attempts had turned him off of offering- probably convinced Davey that Crutchie was mad at him.  He had to find a way to fix it.

“Hey, Dave, wait up,” he called one day as they left the center, a heavy tote full of papers lifted on his shoulder precariously. “Mind carryin’ my bag for me to my spot? The leg is killin’ me today.”

He would always remember the way Davey had silently beamed.

 

**Physical Touch.**

 

Late nights of the rooftop with Jack were always Crutchie’s favorites. The roof was quiet and isolated; it was a place where they did not have to pretend to be anything but what they were. There, alone, under a sky of nothing but stars, they were two boys in love; no questions about it.

Under the stars, they would run their hands against each other, fingers tracing against each other’s soft skin and toned muscles. They would move slowly, would press their lips together and feel the heat of each other's breath ghost over their faces. They would pretend like the world could not hurt them.

Sometimes, when Crutchie had a nightmare- or Jack had one- they would just sit in silence, kissing tears off each other’s cheeks and praying to, one day, be alright.

But most night, they just fell asleep, wrapped around each other like security blankets, hiding from a cruel world in soft embraces and sweetness.

When they would wake up, they would do so slowly- carefully pulling themselves apart while discussing dreams that would never be real and lives they would never live. They would look out on New York City and pretend it was their own, holding hands as they did so.

Jack kissed Crutchie before he went down the ladder and into the world, holding him tight.

“Ya mean the world to me,” Jack mumbled into Crutchie’s skin. “Ya know that, right?”

“Yeah, Jack. I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
>  
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at [ EducationalAdmiral! ](https://educationaladmiral.tumblr.com/)


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